


Will The Roses Bloom In Heaven

by PazithiGallifreya



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Afterlife, Canonical Character Death, F/M, Fluff, Gen, of a sort, so fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-10
Updated: 2016-05-10
Packaged: 2018-06-07 16:25:01
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,505
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6813070
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PazithiGallifreya/pseuds/PazithiGallifreya
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Will the roses bloom in heaven<br/>Are there any gardens there<br/>Any violets and clover<br/>Way up with the angels there</p>
<p>Will the branches fill with blossoms<br/>And in winter fill with snow<br/>Will the roses bloom in heaven<br/>Tell me momma ere I go</p>
            </blockquote>





	Will The Roses Bloom In Heaven

**Author's Note:**

> Another Tumblr-prompt one-off, this time a bit of largely self-indulgent fluff which may or may not give you a toothache.
> 
> The original prompt (submitted to mysnarkyslytherinsecret, which I shamelessly stole):
> 
> Anonymous asked:
> 
> He's nine years old again. He remembers dying, but other than a lingering, phantom pain at his throat, it's more like the foggy memory of a bad dream than anything present and real. Lily is older, she's the same age as when she died. She is sitting with James and Sirius and Remus are laughing at something. He sees someone further away who might be Albus Dumbledore, but he's not quite ready to deal with *that* yet. Severus walks up to Lily, and...
> 
> (If you hate the idea of the friendship between Lily & Severus having once been an actual friendship, you should probably not bother reading this)

He remembers dying, but other than a lingering, phantom pain at his throat, it’s more like a foggy memory of a bad dream than anything present and real.

His eyes open and everything is too bright. He flexes his fingers and stretches his neck, trying to dissipate the lingering sensation. Everything seems too close, too small.

He rolls to his side and curls up on himself.

He is naked. He is small. He rubs at his knees and shins, the skin strangely soft and smooth. He covers his face in his hands, wiping at tears he hadn’t realized he’d been weeping.

His throat hurts, now. It _hurts._ How can death hurt like this? He begins sobbing and it only makes the pain worse, but he can’t stop himself.

The pain in his throat is burning him, now, a searing acid spreading across his body. He feels like his very essence is leaving him through that point, but is powerless to do anything about it.

-

She’s sitting with James. She’s always sitting with James. Time is sort of a non-concept here, wherever _here_ is. A place to sit with James and wait.

Sirius Black and Remus Lupin are here now. There weren’t before (if you can say “before” here) but they are here, now (if you can say “now” here). She doesn’t feel like she’s been here long, but James’ old school friends look much older than she remembered them.

Her old Headmaster is here, too. He stands at the edge of something off in the distance, hands folded behind his back. He smiles gently when they visit him but rarely has much to say these days. She thinks he might be a bit sad about something, but doesn’t ask.

Something is different today (if you can say “today” here). Something almost at the edge of hearing draws her attention. Lily Potter looks over to James, who does not seem perturbed in any way. She squeezes his hand and smiles as she stands.

“I think I’m going to go for a walk, love.”

He smiles and nods at her and stands, also. He follows her quietly, trailing casually a few steps behind her. She tries not to hurry or seem unduly disturbed, although she can hear it better now. Someone is crying. It sounds like a child.

She glances back at James, who is watching a cloud in the ever-blue sky in the distance. He does not seem to hear it, but she knows she is not imagining it now.

-

She stops near a tree and looks around. The crying is very close, now. James stops and glances around as well, as though he can almost hear it as well. She thinks she knows where it is coming from, and walks into a stand of trees.

She sees him, now, a small body curled up on its side, black hair obscuring his face. Strange light surrounds it, pulsing like a heartbeat.

“Who is that?”

She looks back at James but doesn’t answer. She thinks she recognizes this young boy, but it seems impossible, so she doesn’t say a word. She kneels down next to the child and lays a hand gently on his shoulder.

“Sev? Severus?”

She shakes him, gently. She can feel James staring at her but can’t deal with him right now. Something has gone terribly wrong. Her old friend curls in on himself tighter, his wailing dimming to a dull keening. She shifts until she is seated and pulls him until his head and shoulders are in her lap. She runs her fingers over his hair but does not know what else to do.

“James, would you go find Albus?”

He is staring at the both of them with a shocked expression and does not react immediately.

“That _can’t_ be Severus Snape.”

She sighs and holds the boy a little tighter.

“I’m quite certain it is. He looked just like this the day I met him, when we were nine years old.” She snorts in an undignified manner at some hint of humor in the situation. “Well, with more clothes on, obviously.”

James shakes his head in disbelief.

“Why the hell is he so young?”

“I don’t know. He’s… injured.”

“He’s _dead_ , like the rest of us. But no one else looks like… _this_? Maybe we should just leave him alone. It’s not like we can fix… whatever this is.”

She shakes her head, unwilling to walk away just yet. She understands James’ impatience. Severus was never James’ friend, after all. He never knew this boy, only the tempestuous young man who became his enemy.

They both know, in a distant way, what had transpired over the years, in the way that the dead can still feel the living who knew them. But that is not quite the same as having all the answers.

“James, please go find Albus. As a favor to me?”

He frowns at the crying boy but smiles gently at her, finally acquiescing.

-

Time passes or doesn’t pass or something else perhaps, but suddenly Albus Dumbledore is standing there, James at his elbow and Sirius and Remus several feet away.

Sirius looks disgusted and stands mumbling to himself. Remus has a hand on his shoulder with his usual soft, sad expression.

Albus, though? It’s hard to say. Inscrutable, as usual. He looks down upon Lily and at the dark-haired boy who seems to be dissolving at the edges as she watches.

-

Lily waited while Albus peered down his long, crooked nose; she held her breath (such as it was). Something passed behind his eyes, some thought or feeling, his expression more grim and calculating than the gentle curiosity she was accustomed to.

He muttered something to himself, shaking his head.

“It had to be done.”

Sirius took a step closer, his own curiosity momentarily winning out over whatever revulsion he felt.

“What did?”“

Albus shook his head again, this time at Sirius.

“I had wondered whether or not he would even make it this far. I’d hoped–”

Sirius stepped back again. “Hoped? Dread would be more appropriate. What business does he have being here, after everything?”

Albus ignored him, bending to one knee and reaching out, but not quite touching, then pulling his hand back as though he thought Severus might bite him.

“I’d hoped to spare another this fate, but it had to be done. Such is the way of things, at times.”

He reached out again, no longer hesitating. He pressed his hand over the boy’s throat. Severus began screaming again in response.

Albus pulled his hand back, but something resisted. A bright thread passed from his palm to the boy’s throat, shimmering like a spider’s web in the morning dew before breaking free from his hand and wrapping itself around the child’s wound.

Albus stood, watching the sobbing boy. He seemed more solid now, at least, now that Albus had finally returned what he had not known he’d taken.

-

He was calmer, now, and finally quiet. He’d hidden his face against her shoulder, trembling, until finally Albus lead Sirius and Remus away. James was still seated beside her and the boy eyed him warily.

“Lily?“

She bit back her own tears. He sounded as young as he looked. Younger perhaps.

“Yes?”

“I’m sorry.”

She pushed a strand of hair behind an ear. She wasn’t sure what it was exactly that he was apologizing for and he did not explain.

“It’s okay, Sev. It’s all over, now.”

He shifted against her, crying again, although not hysterically as before.

“I tried, Lily. I know I messed up a lot, but I really did try.”

“I know you did.”

He sniffled as his nose began to run again. Lily looked over at James, whose back was turned, giving the two of them some illusion of privacy. She knew this was awkward for James, but he seemed content to let her do as she deemed fit in this. She loved him all the more for it.

Severus sat up a little straighter, finally taking in his surroundings.

“Where are we?”

“Hm… nowhere, really. Just… waiting.”

“Oh.” He blinked at the light suffusing the no-place they inhabited, no discernible sun in the blue sky but seeming to come from everywhere at once. He pressed himself against her again, sniffling more as tears returned

“Where… where is Harry? I tried to keep him safe, Lily, I tried–”

“He’s not here, Severus. Not yet.”

“But Dumbledore said–”

Lily pressed a finger to the boy’s lips.

“Harry is fine. He’s still with his friends. He’ll be along when it’s his time. No more questions, now. Just… just rest now, okay?”

-

Lily sat beneath the tree, James beside her, his arms wrapped around her and his head propped against hers, looking out into the distance. She’d taken James’ cloak and wrapped Severus up. The boy was asleep, now, his head in her lap as she stroked his hair. She wasn’t sure how long they’d been here, like this.

Time doesn’t really exist, here, after all.

**Author's Note:**

> Full text of the song, as recorded by The Carter Family in 1932:
> 
> "Will The Roses Bloom In Heaven"
> 
> In a cold and cheerless garret  
> In a room so dim so lone  
> In the frosty winter in silence  
> There was heard a little mourn
> 
> And a little child is asking  
> At the break of the day  
> Will the roses bloom in heaven  
> Tell me momma tell me pray
> 
> Will the roses bloom in heaven  
>  Are there any gardens there  
>  Any violets and clover  
>  Way up with the angels there
> 
> Will the branches fill with blossoms  
>  And in winter fill with snow  
>  Will the roses bloom in heaven  
>  Tell me momma ere I go
> 
> Now the room grows light and lighter  
> Every thing has caught a glow  
> Heaven seems to stretch about her  
> While dreams they just come and go
> 
> Then she whispered birds are singing  
> Songs of melody  
> And I see the roses blooming  
> While the angels beckon me
> 
> Then mother whispered  
> In the land so bright and fair  
> When the roses are blooming  
> There will be no parting there
> 
> Goodbye my little darling  
> For death is lingering here  
> And on the little pale face  
> There was not one trace of fear


End file.
